We Are Men
by Guardian Fox
Summary: Finn and Kurt have an impromptu Guys' Night. Finn wants Kurt to remember the New Directions. Kurt wants to feel accepted. Blaine just wants what's best for Kurt. In one night, can it all come together? Full Summary Inside. Blaine/ND bonding.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Early January. Blaine and Kurt still just friends, Blaine doesn't know about Kurt's feelings for him. Blaine over for the evening, Finn has ND guys over. Burt & Carol are out. Finn/Puck/Blaine bonding. _Takes place between The Sue Sylvester Shuffle, and Silly Love Songs (pretend that Kurt already got his sex talk. I just had to include that line, hope it doesn't bother anyone that I switched that time frame, but it doesn't mean that Blaine knows about Kurt's feelings, just the talk). _

**Tagline: **"I thought you were sensitive to the products I use on my face, Finn," Kurt glared, resorting to his last defense: words. Finn grinned impishly at him and pressed the sharpie to his skin to make the first mark. "Sorry, dude. Welcome to your first guys' sleepover."

**A/N:** I really want there to be some mad bro bonding between Blaine and the ND guys. This HAS to happen next season! I can't wait to see how they treat him, since we really haven't seen any direct interactions between ND guys and Blaine. I expect them to be wary of him, because they will expect him to be like Kurt, since he's also gay & Kurt is the only 'gay' they know. They don't mean to be that ignorant, but I think they will be - at first at least, but then they'll get over it.

**Disclaimer:** I have all my hair, so unfortunately I am not Ryan Murphy & do not own Glee.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1<strong>  
><em>

The Hudmel family dinner had taken place as usual, but this particular Friday night in late January Burt and Carole had a movie date, leaving their boys with the run of the house.

Their parents' date had been unanticipated, so at first both Kurt and Finn just sat together in the living room watching TV, contemplating the possibilities.

"We should totally get everyone over here for a wicked party," Finn was saying.

Kurt scrunched up his nose in displeasure. "Dad would kill us! We didn't even ask."

Finn groaned in frustration. He knew Kurt was right, of course, but did he have to be so _right_?

"Maybe I'll call Blaine..." Kurt mused beside him. He had his phone out, contemplating it and biting his lip nervously.

Finn's head shot up from the back of the couch and he stared at Kurt, then burst out laughing. Kurt started and glared at Finn, face flushing in either anger or embarrassment – Finn was laughing too hard to tell which.

"What's so funny?" Kurt demanded.

"Dude," Finn said, trying desperately to calm his grin in the face of Kurt's intimidating stare. "If Burt wouldn't let us have everyone over without asking, then he _definitely_ wouldn't let you ask Blaine over." Finn paused, "and especially without him or mom here," he added as an afterthought, casting Kurt a sly look.

Kurt flushed even harder than before. "Blaine and I are just friends, Finn," he said. There was a touch of regret in his voice which he hoped Finn hadn't noticed. As a distraction, he returned Finn's sly look and said, "You know, I could always tell dad that you had sex with Santana last year _because_ she pressured you into it. Then he'd be giving you 'The Talk' as well." Kurt smiled in triumph at the horrified look on Finn's suddenly paling face.

"Okay, fine, you can invite Blaine," Finn sighed, knowing when he'd been beat.

Kurt grinned and jumped up from the couch, clapping with excitement.

"But!" Finn yelled, trying to regain Kurt's rapidly wandering attention. Kurt, who had once again pulled out his phone and had his thumb hovering over speed dial 2, looked up.

"But," Finn repeated, "If you get to invite Blaine over, then I get to invite someone over too."

"Who?" Kurt asked, sitting back down on the couch. "I'm assuming you mean Quinn..." Kurt's face scrunched in confusion. "Or is it Rachel now?"

Finn was silent, and Kurt knew he'd said something wrong. He placed his phone off to the side and tried to retrace his steps. "I'm sorry, Finn, if I said something to upset you. We can talk about it if you want," he offered.

Finn shook his head. "No, thanks Kurt. I just need to figure things out for myself right now. But just so you know, I'm not dating either of them – or anyone – right now."

"Oh," Kurt started apologetically. "Look, Finn, I text with Mercedes all the time, but our – I mean _your_ – 'gleemances' form and fall apart faster than she can type sometimes. It's hard to keep track of everything when I'm not actually at McKinley." He gave Finn a small smile to show that he hadn't meant any offense by his previous comment, while simultaneously trying to resist the urge to ask Finn for more details (he'd have to call Mercedes for the un-abridged story later). But thinking of his best girl gave him an idea.

"Actually," Kurt said, perking up, "Mercedes told me that tonight she's having a girls' night over at her place."

Finn raised his eyebrows at Kurt, wondering what that could possibly have to do with anything.

Kurt rolled his eyes and tried to break it down for him. "I think what you need right now, Finn, is a little time away from all the girl drama. Why don't you call up some of the guys and have them here to hang out. Watch a game – or whatever it is you do with guy friends."

"What does that mean?" Finn asked. Kurt raised an eyebrow, not understanding. Finn elaborated. "You said 'whatever it is you do with guy friends,' what do you mean by that?"

Kurt sighed. "Are you trying to make a gay joke Finn? Because I really thought we were past that."

"No!" Finn said, hurt that Kurt would think that after all they'd been through. "I just... are you saying that you've never had guy friends before?" Finn's eyes were wide as he asked the question, as if he couldn't comprehend such a thing.

Kurt gave Finn a pitying look. "Finn," he said, voice ironic, "did you really think that I'd had guy friends before?" Finn still didn't understand. Kurt continued. "The whole school seemed to know that I was gay before I even _came out_ to anyone. Even when I was little, none of the other boys wanted to play with me, so the only close friends I've ever had were girls. Even in Glee club I was never close with any of the guys. Most of them never talked to me in rehearsals unless they had to."

"But, what about with Karofsky?" Finn asked, struggling to understand. "Sam, and Mike and Artie, they all stood up for you then."

Kurt dragged a hand through his hair, slightly mussing it, and Finn knew that he must not be getting something or else Kurt would never intentionally mess up his own hair.

"Sure," Kurt conceded, "You all stood up for me when the Karofsky thing was going on; but," he continued, willing Finn to understand, "that's not the same as saying 'Hi' to me at my locker, or talking to me between classes, or inviting me to hang out after school."

Finn took a moment to digest this, which made Kurt nervous.

"Have you done that stuff at Dalton?" Finn asked finally.

Kurt smiled and looked off to somewhere Finn couldn't see. He opened his mouth to explain, but Finn didn't think he could stand hearing Kurt praise his new classmates for their openness and acceptance, especially after hearing him cut his supposed Glee friends down after they'd done so much to defend him.

"I get it," Finn said, trying to keep his tone light. "I'm happy for you, Kurt." And he was. But he was worried that Kurt was liking Dalton too much and that he'd never want to return to McKinley. It wasn't fair that he'd begun to become close with Kurt now, only for Kurt to be drifting away, apparently without even wanting to look back. There had to be something he could do to fix this, to show Kurt that he, and everyone in Glee, really cared about Kurt and wanted him back.

"How about this?" Finn said, inspiration hitting him. "Since the girls are having a girls' night, why don't we have a guys' night?" Kurt gave him a panicked look and opened his mouth to object, but Finn could guess what he was going to say, and cut him off before he got started, "It would be non-alcoholic!" He didn't even think there was much alcohol left in the house anyways after the party he'd been to with Puck last weekend, but Kurt didn't need to know about that.

"It would just be the guys from New Directions, and Blaine, and it'll be really casual. Hanging out with the guys, like you wanted, right?" he asked, looking to Kurt for approval. Kurt was biting his lip, but he seemed to be hiding a smile, so Finn went on.

Finn leaned over and nudged Kurt with his large shoulder. "We'll have a great time, and we'll show you what real men do when hanging out," he said in his butch-est voice, "not whatever those Nancy prep-school boys have been doing with you." Kurt scoffed, but was fully smiling now, and Finn mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done.

He glanced quickly at the clock and a plan started to formulate. "It's only 6:28 right now," Finn said. "Because this is going to be so short notice, there probably won't even be that many people over to begin with, so we don't have to worry about that. Mom and Burt are going to that late movie across town that won't get out 'till 11:00, and it will take them another half hour to get home after that. That gives us plenty of time to have some people over, if only for a few hours. And we can make sure they all split before the parents get home."

Kurt stared at Finn in shock. Finn could be slow about a lot of things, but if there was one thing he was good at it was coming up with well-put-together plans on the spot; he'd done it at their Sectionals last year, and now it seemed he'd done it again.

Kurt relaxed his shoulders, not having realised how much he'd tensed up when he'd been ranting to Finn, and gave him an approving smile. Finn was preparing for a bro-hug to seal the moment when Kurt's phone buzzed on the couch beside him. Kurt jumped in surprise and picked it up, checking the caller ID before squeaking in excitement, and answering the phone.

"Hi, Blaine!" He said as he slid off the couch and strolled slowly out of the room, "I was _just_ about to call you."

Kurt left the living room and their conversation faded into the hallway, leaving Finn alone on the couch, the TV still playing in the background. He smirked after Kurt: from the way Kurt answered Blaine's call, and his defensive tone when talking about their relationship earlier that Kurt thought he hadn't noticed, Kurt couldn't be more obvious if he tried.

The clock on the mantle chimed, marking the passing of the half hour, and Finn realized that he had better get going on inviting people if they were going to have any time to hang out at all before Burt and Carole got back from their movie. He dialed Puck's number first, and as he waited for him to answer, he hoped that with everyone over tonight, they would be able to show Kurt exactly what he was missing out on being away from McKinley.

Artie was the first one to be dropped off not 15 minutes after Finn had made his calls. Finn promised Artie's dad that they weren't planning on being too late, and that he would be able to give Artie a ride home in his pickup truck later that evening.

Puck and Mike arrived within minutes of each other. Puck came in the door complaining about the lack of hot girls available for dates that night, saying it was the only reason he'd bothered to show up. Mike said that he'd normally be out with Tina on a Friday night, but since the girls were having that sleep over he'd had nothing to do, so he was relieved to have escaped a night of his mother harping on him about his math grade.

Sam came in last, having taken the bus and walking the 10 minutes from the nearest bus stop to the Hudmel house.

All the boys of New Directions greeted Kurt with the same enthusiasm, slapping him on the back or giving him friendly bro-punches to the shoulder. Kurt appreciated the sentiment, but wished that they would be a little gentler about it.

They convened in the living room, where Finn had already broken out the Xbox and controllers. Kurt was busy running around the living room, moving everything breakable to higher shelves to accommodate the room for the New Directions boys, and dusting and wiping and shining anything he could reach, to prepare for Blaine.

Finally deeming the room ready, Kurt settled down on the single lounge chair and opened his magazine while the rest of the boys gathered around the controllers, fighting for rights to the first match. They started up a game of _Super Smash Bros_, and it was 20 minutes before any words other than cursing and yelling were heard above the annoying sounds of game play and background theme music.

Sam, who had lost the last match and thus had to concede his controller to Finn, was coming back from the kitchen, a can of coke in one hand. He strolled over to Kurt's chair and leaned heavily on the backrest. Kurt looked up in surprise as the chair shifted, but smiled when he saw that it was Sam. Sam may be new, but Kurt felt like he had the closest connection with him out of all the New Directions guys, except maybe for Finn.

Sam glanced momentarily down at the page Kurt was reading. It was a large article set beside some pictures of young girls dressed up like adult glamour models, which Sam thought was weird. He hated the whole beauty pageant concept, and wouldn't let his little sister watch _Toddlers & Tiaras_ at home. He wondered why Kurt was reading about something like that, since he was usually so moral about stuff. But maybe now wasn't the time to get into it.

"How come you're not playing?" Sam asked, taking a swig from his can.

Kurt glanced at the screen and cringed as Pikachu was sent flying off into the distance, screaming shrilly the whole way. Finn laughed in triumph. Puck cursed and punched him.

"Smash Bros isn't really my style..." Kurt said.

Finn looked up at this and paused the game.

"Hey, what are you doing man? I was just about to get the hammer!" Artie complained.

Finn ignored him and swivelled on the spot to fully face Kurt.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," he said. "We should be doing sometime all of us can be into."

Kurt was about to object, to say he didn't mind that much and that he'd been meaning to get to his magazine eventually, but Finn cut him off.

"No, Kurt. Tonight was supposed to be about us all hanging out _together_," he put down his controller in a mover Kurt assumed was supposed to symbolise how much Finn meant his words.

"Fine," Kurt was impressed by Finn's persistence, "though I don't think that anything I'll want to do is going to interest you guys."

"No facials, hair braiding, nail painting, naked pillow fights, or talking about boys," Puck agreed in a serious tone. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You honestly think that that's what girls do during sleepovers?" he asked, exasperated. "I can tell you from firsthand experience that none of that happens." Kurt went back to his magazine to finish his article (he hated leaving an article halfway through), but noticed after a moment that the other boys had gone quiet.

_They don't believe that I've been to girls' sleepovers_, Kurt realised. He decided to milk the situation for all it was worth. He _hmmm'ed_ thoughtfully to catch their attention, finger to his chin and eyes cast upwards.

"Except for the naked pillow fighting bit," Kurt amended, looking around the room at his audience. "Mercedes has a really good arm; you don't want to be cornered by her. Rachel is really good at whipping pillow cases, and don't even get me started on Santana and Brittany's double teaming." And he nonchalantly went back to reading his magazine.

A beat.

"Hah!" Artie laughed weakly, "he's making it up." He looked around him for confirmation from the others, but they all looked just as unsure as he felt.

Kurt's shoulders were shaking. He couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

"You – yuh, you ssssshould hah–have seeeeen your faces!" he cried, abandoning his magazine and clutching his stomach instead, trying to hold in the laughter that was rolling out of him.

"You think you're pretty funny, eh Hummel?" Puck ground out. He looked as if all his greatest hopes had been dashed to smithereens against a wall. "I'll give you something to laugh about."

Puck lunged at Kurt's chair, grabbed the small boy by the ankles and hauled him to the ground. Kurt shrieked in surprise. Puck sat over his knees and pinned his arms to his sides. "Get him, boys!" he commanded.

"Roger!" Finn agreed, reading Puck's mind. Hands descended on Kurt, wriggling over him, searching out his most sensitive places.

"Ohmigod – no! Stop it," Kurt gasped. He was _so_ ticklish! Why had he ever told Finn? He shrieked some more and tried to kick his legs out from under Puck to fight them off, but Puck wouldn't budge and his hold on Kurt's arms was too strong.

"Grab a pen!" Puck yelled over Kurt's noise. Finn sprinted to the kitchen and yanked a pen from the drawer by the phone.

"Sorry little bro," Finn said as he slid back to Kurt's side. He pressed a firm hand to Kurt's forehead to stop him from thrashing side-to-side and drew the uncapped sharpie closer to Kurt's cheek. The others stopped tickling him so that Finn could draw properly, but kept laughing and high-fiving each other over his captive body.

"I thought you were sensitive to the products I use on my face, Finn," Kurt glared, resorting to his last defence: words.

Finn grinned impishly at him and pressed the sharpie to his skin to make the first mark. "Sorry, dude. Welcome to your first guys' sleepover."

Kurt felt the tip drag over his skin in a circular motion, but tried not to move. If he struggled, then Finn would only mess up and probably fleck his entire face with sharpie marks. The sooner Finn finished, the sooner he could get up and wash it off, Kurt told himself.

"Hurry up, dude, I call next," Sam laughed from somewhere on Kurt's left.

_Shit_. How was he supposed to get out of this?

And then the doorbell rang.

_Oh thank God_.

"I got it!" Kurt yelled. With a mighty heave he wrenched himself from their grasps and ran to the front door.

He opened it to find a smiling Blaine standing on the doorstep.

"Blaine," Kurt gasped, out of breath.

Blaine was smiling at him, and opened his mouth to say something, but Kurt didn't hear it. All he could do was stare. Blaine was wearing his glasses instead of his regular contacts. Also, his hair was ungelled and so irresistibly touchable. But Kurt was dragged from his stupor when Blaine did a double take, swallowing whatever greeting he'd been about to issue, and got his own good look at Kurt.

"Kurt," he said, almost choking on the name, laughter overtaking him. "What happened to you?"

With horror, Kurt realized what a mess he looked. His carefully coiffed hair was ruined, he was sweaty and his face was probably red and blotchy from his efforts to escape. And then there was whatever Finn had drawn on his face. He slapped his hand over his cheek, hoping he was covering it, and desperately hoping that Finn hadn't decided to go with anything pornographic.

"I can explain," Kurt moaned, mortified that Blaine was seeing him like this.

"It's fine, it's fine," Blaine laughed. "I'm friends with Wes and David, remember. I've seen much worse, trust me." He reached up and tugged gently on the hand Kurt was using to hide his cheek. "Let me see it," Blaine said, pulling the hand away.

Kurt felt himself heating up at the touch, at the tenderness in Blaine's voice, at Blaine's proximity as he peered at him. He hoped that his face was already red enough that Blaine wouldn't notice a difference.

"I don't know what it is, please tell me it's not that bad," Kurt mumbled as he shifted under Blaine's intent gaze.

"You don't have to worry," Blaine assured. "It's supposed to be a smiley face. I say 'supposed to be' because it looks like you moved while whoever was doing this was still drawing, so the mouth is off. It's half frowning." Blaine seemed to think this was hilarious, and stifled more giggles under his free hand.

Someone cleared his throat behind Kurt, and he pivoted quickly on the spot, feeling guilty, though he didn't know why.

All the New Directions boys were standing in the entrance way, looking at the two.

"Hi," Blaine said over Kurt's shoulder. "I'm Blaine."

Blaine was still standing on the porch, and Kurt realised he was waiting to be invited in. Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine's sense of propriety and tugged him in. To his embarrassment, Kurt noticed that they were still holding hands. He slipped his out of Blaine's as casually as possible and used it to close the door, even though using his left arm for that would have been much easier. Blaine didn't seem to have noticed, and was still talking to Kurt's old schoolmates.

"Can I assume it was all of you that were assaulting Kurt here?" he was saying. "May I suggest for next time that you get him into a noogie hold, and then he won't be able to twist away, and the smiley face will actually be happy."

"Blaine," Kurt slapped him on the shoulder, "they don't need any tips. Not unless they're going to use them on you first. And I'm sorry, I'm being rude. This is Mike, Artie, Puck, Sam, and you know Finn," Kurt introduced, pointing out each boy as he was mentioned. Blaine nodded to each of them in turn.

"It's nice to meet you all properly," Blaine said.

The boys didn't seem to know what to make of Blaine. He spoke in a formal vernacular, while at the same time talking about noogies. Which one were they supposed to judge him on?

"We're playing video games in the living room if you want to join, Blaine," Finn offered.

The boys of New Directions shuffled back into the living room to resume their game.

Kurt waved off Blaine's attempts to hang his own coat, and took it and his scarf from him to hang up.

"Thanks, Kurt. You wouldn't believe the drive over. I thought I was going to be earlier, but then it got super windy and it was hard to see."

"Are you sure your parents don't mind you coming over on such short notice?" Kurt asked. Blaine shrugged.

"I came from Dalton, actually. Mom and Dad just left for a two-week business trip, so no one's home. I don't like being there alone–" Blaine seemed to catch himself at the end of the sentence, and it cut off awkwardly. He smiled at Kurt as if to cover up the slip.

"Is that why you were calling me to come over?" Kurt asked, trying to keep the topic light. Conversations with Blaine tended to go downhill once his parents were brought in, though Kurt still didn't know the full story there.

Blaine huffed in mock annoyance. "I'm actually really glad you invited _me_ over," he said. "My roommate has his girlfriend over for the weekend, so I've basically been pushed out of my room, if you know what I mean. I thought I was going to have to sleep on Wes and David's floor."

Finn was eavesdropping on Kurt and Blaine's entranceway conversation. He grit his teeth in frustration over what he heard. How could they talk so effortlessly? The guys were back to the video game when Blaine and Kurt entered the room. Puck looked up when they came in.

"Did I hear that right?" he asked. "Your roommate has a girlfriend? How does that work? I thought Dalton was an all guys school."

"There's a lot of crossover in events between Dalton and Crawford Country Day, our all-girls sister school," Blaine said, deciding to let Puck's implication that the whole school was gay slide. "They cheerlead for us. They met at one of Dalton's rugby games."

"Prep school girls," Puck breathed. His character ran off a ledge and died, but he didn't seem to notice. "Dude, I need to transfer."

Kurt snorted. "You haven't gone to math class in three years, Puck. I highly doubt you'd ever be able to enrol at Dalton. Besides," he eyed Puck's head, "I'm pretty sure Mohawks are against dress-code regulations."

"You could get your prep-school ass over here and I'll give you a real education," Puck retorted.

"Smash Bros?" Blaine asked, leaning over the couch to see. "Cool! I call next game."At that moment Kurt took in Blaine's clothes. His plum-purple pullover top hugged his arms perfectly. The sleeves were pushed up past his elbows, exposing a surprising amount of arm hair, and his light wash jeans fit his legs _very_ nicely. Kurt was suddenly reminded of the wreck he must look, and had a slight panic attack that Blaine had seen him like this.

"Excuse me for a moment, boys. I need to get this ink off my face." And he sprinted upstairs for an impromptu facial and to change his wrinkled shirt. Kurt's exfoliants, which he normally trusted with his life, couldn't get the job done. The combination of embarrassment and stress was building up inside him, making the room feel stuffy and claustrophobic. Kurt cracked open his window to get some much needed fresh air, and it calmed him down enough to give him the presence of mind to apply some concealer to mask the mark completely. After an additional twenty minutes of fixing and assessing his hair, Kurt re-entered the living room as casually as possible.

He took a spot on the couch behind Blaine, who was now sitting on the floor with Puck and Mike. Was it videogame protocol to play sitting on the floor? But that didn't matter to Kurt because Blaine seemed to be winning. Kurt watched in fascination as Blaine directed Kirby across the arena, beating everyone out of his path. Mewtwo and Captain Falcon fell by the wayside until it was only Kirby and Bowser.

"Get him!" Kurt cheered. Someone clapped him on the shoulder mid-cheer, and he reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the TV. "Can I help you, Finn?" he asked, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice. They were brothers now; he could be as snarky as he wanted.

"I'm hungry," Finn said.

"We just had dinner," Kurt said, eyes still on the screen.

"Can you make me cookies?" Finn asked.

"If you eat after 6 o'clock at night you gain weight faster," Kurt replied.

"Oh come on, I play football. Please, Kurt?"

Kurt didn't bother to respond.

Bowser finally crushed Kirby under his giant hands and Kirby flew violently off the screen, the whole screen shaking with the impact. Game.

Blaine groaned and leaned back against the base of the couch. Kurt only shifted his legs out of his way so Blaine wouldn't hit them and have to move.

"Nice game, Blaine," Artie said. They fist bumped as the stats flashed on the screen. Artie twisted in his chair to face the couch behind him where Kurt was sitting. "Did I hear something about cookies?" He asked hopefully.

Kurt was just about to go off on him, but Blaine inadvertently saved them all.

"I don't mind helping, if we're making some," he offered. "Cookie dough is the greatest."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Blaine! That's gross, and unhealthy; you could get salmonella."

Blaine shrugged and got up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. "If you don't make them, I will," he said. "All this talk of cookies has given me a mad craving." He held out a hand to Kurt who took it without question, and pulled him to his feet. "Lead on, good sir!" Blaine cried.

Kurt stared blankly at him.

"The kitchen, Kurt. I don't know where it is."

"Oh, okay, right. This way," and he headed to the kitchen, Blaine following after.

"So, are you actually any good at baking?" the boys heard Kurt ask as they left the living room.

"Define 'baking,'" Blaine teased. Kurt must have given him a weird look, because he laughed, then said, "Kurt, I am an amazing mixer. I just have a little trouble when it comes to the timing with the oven."

"So, in other words, you're going to burn down my house?"

The kitchen door swung shut behind them, blocking out any more of their conversation.

"Hmmm," Puck mused, staring after the two Warblers. "So, moral of the story is, if you want Kurt to do something for you, get Blaine to make him do it." He nodded to himself, satisfied with his assessment of the situation.

Finn suggested they change games. Puck exchanged _Smash Bros_ for _Halo_, and Finn, Artie and Puck set in to play. Because there weren't enough controllers for five of them, Mike and Sam sat out together. Sam found a deck of cards, and they set up for _Spit_ on the window seat.

After ten minutes of intense concentration and silence (if by silence you meant slapping hands and the sound of machinegun fire), Puck spoke up again.

"So what's the deal with Kurt and that Blaine kid?" he asked Finn. "They dating?"

Finn shrugged. "I don't think so. Kurt's totally into him and Blaine is gay, but Kurt says they're just friends."

"But if they're both gay, then why not?" Artie rationalized. Gunshots rang out as he attacked an oncoming red.

"That's what I keep wondering," Finn said. "That makes sense, right? I mean, if a guy and a girl like each other, then they should be together."

"Does Blaine like Kurt?" Asked Sam.

"I kinda got that vibe," Mike spoke up. "An Asian always knows."

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Puck.

"He's half Asian, can't you tell?" Everyone gave Mike blank looks. "Whatever," he said, "it's an Asian thing."

"Maybe he'd just a touchy-feely kinda guy. Did you see how close he was sitting to me on the floor?" Puck asked.

"Don't bring your insecurities into this," Sam said.

"Kurt keeps saying that it's not the right time," said Finn. "Also, I overheard him talking to Mercedes before, and he mentioned something about 'wanting to be pursued for once.'"

"Dude, was he talking about you and Sam? Bet that was an awkward conversation," Artie laughed at Finn's expense.

"Kurt should man-up and just do it," Puck said. "Enough of this sissy, girly approach. Just tell someone you wanna hook-up. It works for me."

"Is that why you didn't have a date tonight?" Finn smirked, "because I can see how that worked out really well for you."

Puck drove Finn off a cliff, despite the demotional points of committing a team kill.

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><p><strong>AN:** I have most of this written already. This is going to be multichapter, and hopefully deal with some of the themes presented in my other 'sleepover' fic, but in a better way, which is why I've put that one on hiatus. This one just has a more sold plan than that one did; I may eventually just take the other one down, unless people have particularly strong objections.

At the glee panel at Comic Con this year the writers mentioned about introducing more characters' parents. For Mike, they mentioned how his parents have a very different idea of what he should be doing with his future than maybe he does. (Congrats to Harry for being promoted!). This made me super interested in Mike's character and I think he could turn out to be very exciting. I can't wait to see how the writers handle him this season! I have more fun writing him than I ever expected. He's surprisingly interesting.

I hope you enjoyed & will keep reading! Next chapter will be up in 5 days. It can come up faster if those reviews pour in; since I'm still editing, I'd love to hear your feedback! 3

**PPS: **I felt that the flow of the story went better if I made chapter 1 longer. Sorry if there's any confusion to the people who already read it. Chapter 2 will still be up in 4 days.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Hi everyone! So, has it been 4 days? I haven't kept track. Oh well, I felt like putting this up so it's up now!IMPORTANT! I added a large chunk to the end of last chapter that basically doubled it in size, so PLEASE GO BACK and REREAD CHAPTER 1 if you have not already, otherwise you will be confused. Sorry about that! I added it to the end of last chapter b/c I felt like the flow of the story was better that way that simply making it an entirely new chapter. Enjoy! (I don't own glee).**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

In the kitchen, Blaine and Kurt had just put the cookies in the oven. Kurt took special care in setting the timer to mock Blaine's disability. They began to clear away the mess they'd made.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked as Kurt loaded the dishwasher. "I've never seen someone so against the idea of making cookies."

"He said he wanted to use tonight to bond, Blaine! But so far all we've done is play video games, which I have no interest in by the way, and make cookies, which he didn't even help with; and I only agreed to do that because I like baking and it gets me away from that awful music. Do all games have that inane soundtrack?"

Blaine chuckled at Kurt's rant. "Wow," he said, "that's a lot to take in all at once. I assume that by 'he' you're talking about Finn?"

Kurt nodded dejectedly stood next to Blaine at the sink, drying what Blaine washed. "I think Finn feels bad for the 'basement incident' last year, and he's trying to make up for it. He just wants me to feel included with him and the other guys from New Directions. I never felt that way when I was there."

Blaine nodded, contemplating this. Kurt had already explained to him the full events of the 'basement incident' as he referred to it. While Blaine wanted to dislike Finn for what he'd said, he accepted that Kurt and Finn had worked it out. Now they just had something else they needed to work out.

Blaine shook his head. "Kurt, Finn's trying. He wants to bond with you, but I think this is the only way he knows how. I know you'd be more comfortable doing girl-sleepover stuff – believe me, I get that – but Finn is trying to treat you like one of the guys, like you wanted, right?" Blaine dropped his cloth and flicked his wrists to get rid of excess water, then turned to face Kurt and squeezed his shoulders. Kurt stopped drying and clutched the towel in one hand. "He's just a dumb straight boy," Blaine said, pulling a face. "We can't trust them to do anything right." Kurt laughed and smiled. Blaine's explanation made sense, in a way. He just wished it could be easier.

"How come you said you understand about wanting to do girl-sleepover stuff, but at the same time you're so good at video games and stuff? How come it's so easy for you to like both?" Kurt asked.

"I guess it's a design flaw," Blaine said. He leaned in closer so their foreheads were nearly touching, saying the last bit softly, as if it were a secret "Not all us gays can be as fabulous as you." Kurt's breath caught in his throat.

"You need to cheer up, Kurt. You're not in the proper mentality to have fun. Do I need to draw another smiley face on you? I see you managed to scrub the last one off."

"If I have to scrub my face any more tonight, it'll be raw," Kurt breathed. Blaine was so close. Why was Blaine so close? No, Kurt couldn't do this. They were just friends. Blaine would tell him if he wanted more, wouldn't he? Kurt hoped he would. His heart was beating so hard at the prospect. But not now, not when he wasn't 100% sure Blaine wouldn't reject him. He was so tired of going after someone, only to be rejected. Blaine was different. Too important. Kurt couldn't mess up what they had. For now he had to escape this gravitational force that was pulling him towards Blaine's lips.

Suddenly Kurt moved, and then Blaine's hip was stinging.

Kurt stood back, twisting the towel around his finger casually.

"You just whipped me!" Blaine said, shocked.

"You learn a thing or two from girls' sleepovers," Kurt quipped.

Blaine stopped inspecting the red spot on his hip where Kurt's towel had hit him and looked up at Kurt, calculating. He smoothed his shirt back into place and straightened his shoulders. "Oh, really?" he asked, voice serene. He started advancing towards Kurt. "And you've been to a lot of those, have you?"

"Mmm-hm," Kurt hummed. He backed away, not wanting to be cornered. It was stupid, because Blaine didn't even have a towel. But he had an air about him, and Kurt was giddy with not wanting to be caught.

Suddenly there was a towel in Blaine's hands, and he lunged. His twirling handtowel descended on Kurt with a crack. Kurt clutched his arm in surprise.

"Sir," Blaine said in a very convincing British accent, "you are not the only one who has been trained in the art of towel whipping."

Kurt blinked at him. Then, "You call that technique?"

Kurt sprang at Blaine, and the war was on.

They were laughing too hard to hear the timer go off and burnt the cookies.

Kurt and Blaine came out of the kitchen 10 minutes later, faces red, and breaths puffing from their exertions. Both their hair was mussed from the action, Blaine's loose curls springing all over the place and Kurt's bangs sweeping into his eyes, but Kurt wasn't complaining this time. The New Directions boys hadn't heard their screams and yells over their own yells or the sounds of their game play. Finn paused the game when he saw the two, and Kurt presented the group with a plate of severely singed chocolate chip cookies. Blaine set down a bowl of freshly mixed cookie dough, and held out a handful of spoons as compensation.

Everything got eaten.

When the bowl was scraped clean and every burnt crumb licked off the plate the group of boys lay about the living room, tummies full and content. Even Kurt had been persuaded by Blaine's puppy dog eyes to take a bite of cookie dough.

Finn had glared as covertly as he could manage at Blaine when this had happened. He'd been trying to get Kurt to eat a spoonful for the last five minutes, but Kurt wasn't changing his tune. Blaine, sensing the fun, caught onto the game immediately.

"You can't avoid both of us! Besides, I won the towel fight," Blaine declared. "That means you have to do what I say."

Kurt blew his drooping bangs out of his eyes in the superior was only Kurt could manage. "Oh please, Blaine. We all know that's a lie. I completely schooled you in there."

Finn glanced between the two and sat back, feeling like Blaine had somehow siphoned him out of this conversation. Around him, the conversations of the other boys bantered back and forth, all intertwining, except for one.

"If Wes was here, you would do it," Blaine countered, rolling his eyes at Kurt. "He'd wave his gravel like a magic wand and you'd do whatever he'd say."

Finn's eyebrows shot up at this. Who was this Wes guy? He thought Kurt was into Blaine...

"Don't pretend like you'd do any differently," Kurt said. "We all know no one is safe from a determined Wes and his gravel, right Finn?"

Kurt turned expectantly to Finn, but his eager face fell when he realized his mistake. "Oh, sorry," he said, "I forgot we weren't with the Warblers." Finn supposed he went back to avoiding Blaine's spoon, but he was too busy hating what Kurt had just said to really pay attention. He'd rather be with his Warbler friends than with the New Directions, no matter what, it seemed. His disappointment only intensified his glare when Blaine successfully slipped a spoonful of cookie dough in Kurt's hardly protesting mouth.

Finn helped Blaine take the utensils back into the kitchen to wash. When they were all clean, Finn had all the spoons in his hand to put into the drawer. He paused just as he was about to drop them in though. He contemplated the spoons in his hand, and a light bulb went off upstairs. Maybe he shouldn't give up so easily.

"MINE!" Puck yelled, and wrestled the last spoon out of Sam's clumsy grip.

They had been playing spoons for an hour already. Who knew the game could be so all-consuming? The only drawback was that Artie was in a wheelchair, so they couldn't get too creative with the placement of the pile of spoons, and kept the game confined to the coffee table. As for Artie himself, he was used to overcoming challenges because of his chair and appreciated everyone's consideration towards him because of it.

Kurt and Blaine were sitting comfortably next to each other. True the table was rather crowded, but Finn really didn't think their proximity was warranted, even despite them being two gay-friends-but-not-boyfriends.

Mike had gathered up everyone's cards and was shuffling the deck for the next round. He was laughing at something Blaine had said, but then something behind Blaine's head caught his eye. Blaine saw the direction of Mike's gaze, and turned around to also look out the large, floor-to-ceiling living room window. He gasped.

"It's snowing," they said together.

Everyone turned to look out the window. Sure enough, a steady stream of snow was cascading slowly down. The clouds were too thick, so there was no moon. The boys could only see the billowing snow by the light of the living room.

"How long has it been snowing?" Blaine asked. Everyone shrugged, but there was already a substantial amount of evidence piled up at the bottom of the window.

"Shit," Finn cursed quietly. He turned to Kurt who was enthralled by the romance of the snow. "Kurt, what about Burt and Mom? Can they get home in this?"

Kurt looked dismayed that he had to consider the snow a practical sense, instead of as a romantic fantasy, and bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. "What time is it?" he asked. He glanced at Blaine beside him. He wanted the fantasy to last forever.

Sam checked his watch. "Crap, guys. It's already 10:48. We should be going," but he glanced uncertainly out the window and everyone thought the same thing.

Would the snow let them?

"I'll call Dad and let him know about the snow. He always forgets to turn his phone off during shows," Kurt said. He got up and left the room to make the call.

Finn turned the TV on and channel surfed, looking for a weather station. But his search was cut short when a breaking news bulletin interrupted all channels.

"-A flash cold front has swept into western-Ohio," read Rod Remington in his over-the-top TV voice, "bringing with it 10 centimeters of snow in the past 40 minutes, and picking up speed. Experts are baffled by this unexpected and extreme snowfall. Local authorities ask all residents to keep off the roads for your own safety. Snowploughs will be unable to make effective rounds until early tomorrow morning, but look out for that possible Snow Day, kids!" Rod winked at the camera. The camera panned over to show his wife, Andrea Carmichael, who made a joke, and they both laughed. Finn turned the TV off.

"What are we gonna do?" He asked, beginning to freak out. "I didn't ask to have you guys over, Burt might kill me!"

"Don't worry, Finn," Artie consoled. "We'll call our parents and let them know that we're okay and that we're staying over. I bet they're worried. Also, that way they won't call Burt or Carol, and our cover won't be blown."

Kurt re-entered the living room and spoke to the whole group, "I was able to get a hold of Dad," he told them. "Apparently the cinema evacuated all their theatres when they realized how bad the storm was. Didn't want anyone to be stranded there. Dad and Carol are in a hotel across town and won't be back 'till morning – or later, depending on the snow I guess."

Everyone dispersed to make their calls. Blaine called David and Wes to tell them not to wait up (he was past curfew now anyways). They wolf whistled at him when he told them he'd be staying the night at Kurt's, but he rolled his eyes and told them to grow up. Honestly, couldn't they tell the difference between people who were good friends and people who were boyfriends?

If Blaine snapped his phone shut on them only when Kurt came within hearing range, he didn't make the connection.

The boys decided they wanted to camp out in the living room. Finn and Kurt brought blankets and pillows from the linen closet and there was a mad free-for all as everyone tried to claim the warmest blanket or the stoutest pillow. Artie called dibs on the couch and everyone gathered near him on the floor. They weren't ready to go to bed just yet, because by their teenage standards it wasn't even that late, but they got comfy and pulled out the cards to begin a game of cheat and talk about the inane problems that teenage boys are inherently plagued by.

As Blaine reached for the last pillow-blanket set, Kurt intercepted Blaine's hand with his own.

"You don't need that," Kurt told him.

Blaine shifted an eyebrow questioningly behind his thick-rimmed glasses. "And why is that, Mr. Hummel?" he asked, slipping again into his game of addressing Kurt formally when he wanted to tease him.

"Yeah, Kurt," Finn interrupted. "Why don't you guys sleep here too?"

Kurt was shocked by Finn's harsh tone. Finn's eyebrows were drawn together in a childish show of hurt, and he was glaring ever so slightly. But the worst part was his eyes. They looked hard and empty. Kurt could find nothing in them he could relate to. He bristled against Finn's sudden and unwarranted hostility.

"I'm sorry, Finn. But you're just going to end up talking about girls, and I hear enough of that from the sexually deprived boys at Dalton." There it was, Finn thought, the comparison again. Kurt didn't see Finn flinch when Dalton was mentioned.

"Besides," he went on, turning to Blaine, "you need to read this article from the latest Vogue with me! I didn't get a chance to finish it earlier because some people," he glared at Finn, "were pestering me and I couldn't fully take it in. Come on." Kurt grabbed said magazine from the coffee table and scooped Blaine's pillow and blanket up from the floor in his other arm. He marched up the stairs, not waiting to see if Blaine would follow.

Blaine looked uncertainly at the boys in the room. There was something in the air there that he didn't understand. From the looks on Artie and Mike's faces, they didn't seem to understand either, and were staring at Finn in confusion.

"Well, Goodnight everyone," Blaine said, backing slowly out of the room, though the look Finn was giving him was making him feel more like he should turn tail and run as far away as possible. But Blaine didn't want to be rude. He paused in his retreat near the entrance to the hallway. "I had a really great time tonight. It was fun to hang out with you all. Kurt's really lucky to have friends like you," he smiled. Finn heard something in Blaine's voice that made his glare falter. Blaine kept talking like nothing had happened.

"If I leave when you're all sleeping, or if I miss you in the morning then I probably won't see you again until Regional's, so good luck." He smiled again and waved, then turned to make his way up the stairs to find Kurt.


	3. Chapter 3

"Kurt?" Blaine called out at the landing. "I don't know which room is yours."

The door directly to his left swung open and Kurt leaned against the door. Blaine could see that he'd already changed into a pair of royal blue silk pajamas. "It's the one that doesn't smell like feet," Kurt informed him, and stepped aside so Blaine could enter.

Blaine walked in and looked around the room, impressed with what Kurt had done with it. "How long did this take you?" He asked, staring with awe at the memorabilia and trinkets that were just so _Kurt_ decorated tastefully all about the room. "My parents won't let me decorate my room. They say that I'm not home enough, so they want to be able to use it as a guest –" Blaine bit his tongue, surprised with himself. Twice in one night! It's not that he didn't trust Kurt with the information, it's just that it's never come out of him so easily before.

Kurt saw Blaine catch himself, and was dismayed for a moment. Wasn't Kurt worth knowing more about Blaine? But then he realized that Blaine had volunteered that information without the slightest probing on Kurt's part, and he smiled. Maybe they were getting there.

Kurt walked over to his dresser and picked up a small pile of clothes. He held them out to Blaine. "Here," he said, trying to suppress a blush, "I know you don't have any pajamas, so you can borrow these if you want. Sleeping in jeans is a horrible feeling."

"Thanks," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt's thoughtfulness. "Ummm, where can I change?"

Kurt pointed to the hallway. "Second door from the end, on the right. Sorry, it's the one Finn uses. I have to do my moisturising routine so I need my bathroom, otherwise you could just use that."

Blaine left to change and Kurt went to the bathroom to begin washing his face. He settled in front of his vanity and flushed his moisturizer onto a cotton ball, dabbing it carefully across his face.

"Do you by any chance have any shirts that are a little bigger?"

Kurt looked into his mirror and laughed when he saw Blaine in the reflection. The sweatpants fit him fine, but the shirt was at least a size too small. Kurt leapt up from his bench and went to his dresser to dig out a more appropriately sized shirt. The Dalton blazers did a good job of masking just how wide Blaine's shoulders really were. He pulled out a relatively unused cotton t-shirt and handed it to Blaine.

"Here you go. I got this from some event, but they're always too big, so I never wear them of course. Besides, this cotton is too rough for my skin." Blaine nonchalantly pulled off the first shirt and folded it up, shirtless, while Kurt was talking.

Wow, Blaine was hairy, Kurt swooned inside his head. Kurt should have guessed from the amount of hair that dusted Blaine's forearms, but never the less he was still pleasantly surprised. The light dusting of hair looked soft and warm. Kurt tried to angle his thoughts away from Blaine's happy trail – they were leading him down a dangerous path.

"...the article you wanted to read?"

White cotton fell over Kurt's eye-candy, and Blaine's voice pulled his thoughts back to a functioning mode.

"Huh?" Well, almost functioning.

Blaine chuckled. Kurt was so cute when he was flustered, though Blaine didn't get what was the cause was. Did the shirt say something funny on it?

"I said," Blaine repeated, "what's in the article you wanted to read? I've been so busy with school that I haven't even opened this month's issue."

Kurt cleared his throat and looked away from Blaine, needing to clear his head.

"Right, well the article's about these young female models, like 10 years old, from France. There's some controversy over some modeling that they did. Here, you can start reading it and I'll be there in a minute. I'm not done with my moisturizing yet. It's really cold still, and I don't want my pores to dry out." He was about to toss the magazine to Blaine, but he eyed Blaine's skin and said, "Actually, come here. I'm going to give you a facial. I don't know why it's so cold in here, but we can't have our skin drying out overnight."

Blaine grinned and sat down beside Kurt on the vanity bench. Kurt prepared Blaine's face for the mask with a moist towlette.

"So I'm sleeping in here, then?" Blaine asked, eyes closed and Kurt carefully smudged the cream over the ridge of Blaine's nose.

"It will be much more comfortable than the floor downstairs," Kurt replied as casually as possible. Was it selfish of him to keep Blaine up here? He knew what Finn would say in the morning, but right now he didn't care.

"I don't want to impose," Blaine said. "I can sleep on the floor." He twitched a bit as Kurt smoothed the cold mask cream onto his cheek.

"We'll see," Kurt teased. "Now stop talking or you're going to mess it up." Blaine wanted to stick his tongue out at Kurt, but figured that Kurt wasn't above smearing cream on his tongue if he did that, so he decided to save himself the indecency and kept still so Kurt could finish. Kurt finished Blaine, and then did himself quickly (practice makes perfect!), and the two lay on their stomachs, feet near the head of the bed to read the magazine. They read through the article that explained the unconventionality of young girls modeling in makeup and adult fashion and raised the concern of some Americans over the appropriateness of doing as such. When they were done they argued the points back and forth between each other, comparing the pictures of the young models to American pop culture references like _Toddlers & Tiaras_, which Kurt used to fuel his argument of the hypocrisy of the article. They moved on to the next article about upcoming spring trends in men's fashion. Kurt interrupted their conversation once to say it was time to take the masks off. When they came back to bed they re-arranged themselves on pillows propped up against the headboard. Blaine held the magazine between them as he quizzed Kurt on the historical use of stripes in fashion.

The room had only gotten colder and the boys unconsciously snuggled closer together for warmth. There was a lull in the conversation where Kurt had gone into particular detail for one of his answers. When he paused and waited for Blaine to confirm his answer, a sudden weight on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt looked down and his heart melted a little more than it usually did. Blaine had drifted off, head tucked snugly against Kurt, soft curls tickling Kurt's chin. His glasses were askew, and had slipped to the end of his nose, shifting a little with each breath.

For all the teasing, Kurt hadn't actually intended for Blaine to sleep in his bed with him. That would be crossing some sort of line, wouldn't it? Kurt looked around in distress. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this?

Kurt decided that Blaine looked too adorable for Kurt to wake up and make sleep on the floor. The pillow and blanket that had been for Blaine were piled at the foot of Kurt's bed. He shifted carefully under Blaine, so as not to wake him, and toed the blanket up to within his reach. Kurt threw the blanket over their bodies and Blaine snuggled down into it in his sleep, sighing happily at the added warmth, head rolling away from Kurt's body. Kurt reached over and eased Blaine's glasses off, folded them, and placed them on the night stand. Then he stretched over and turned off the light.

The room was flooded in darkness. Outside, the clouds had thinned and the moon was peeking through, highlighting the snow that was still falling; the flakes were no longer coming down as heavily. Kurt breathed softly. His back-lit clock-radio shone the time at him. Kurt lay stiffly in bed, scared of shifting and waking Blaine. He could hear Blaine's quiet breaths next to him, slowly relaxing him. He eased back into the mattress, his breaths becoming deeper and deeper.

Blaine woke up in the middle of the night.

He wasn't sure what had woken him. He tried to take a deep breath to ease a pain in his chest, but something caught in his throat and he sat up quickly, coughing harshly into his hand. His throat felt dry and scratchy. The more he wheezed the rougher it felt and his shoulders shook with the effort to control their intensity, his eyes tearing with the effort. Finally there was a moment between gasps where he managed to clear his throat enough to calm his breathing.

A cold draft of air swept over him suddenly and he sucked in a breath at the surprise of the cool air on his warm skin. He felt himself shiver and was suddenly very aware of the temperature of the room.

His teeth chattered as he looked around for the source. He didn't even have to squint in the dark. The moon was out and full and lit up the room well enough for him to see. As he looked out the window at the moon, he realised that that was the source of his discomfort. The heavy snow clouds from before had disappeared, leaving behind the taste of the frigid flakes on the breeze. It had been creeping into the room for who knew how long. Someone had opened the window and forgotten to close it.

Blaine carefully shifted his weight to the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. He got up and walked to the window, very grateful that Kurt at least had carpeted floors, or his already cold feet would be frozen marble by now.

He had a little difficulty being able to reach the window, since Kurt's vanity and dresser were somewhat in the way, but eventually he managed to get it closed and locked, blocking out any of the crisp air from infiltrating further.

He sighed and rubbed his sore throat. He knew that he regularly slept with his mouth open, and the icy air had only made his symptoms that much more painful. He swallowed carefully, trying to moisten the sore spot, and winced in pain as it only seemed to intensify the sting.

A soft moan cut through the rushing of blood in his ears from the sting, and he turned to regard the bed for the first time.

Kurt must have sensed Blaine's absence in his sleep and had rolled over, seeking the warmth that was lost. Blaine was captivated by the sight. He had never seen Kurt like this, all his defences down. No designer clothes or hairspray to prop himself up with. Blaine knew that at McKinley Kurt had relied on these things to keep himself strong through the bullying, and though he didn't deny that Kurt completely owned his looks, it was nice to see him in this more vulnerable position. Hair tousled and cheeks rosy from the cold, Blaine smiled at his sleeping friend.

Kurt moaned again and Blaine moved quickly to cover him more completely with the quilt, which had slid off him a bit when Blaine had gotten out of bed. The window had only just been closed, which so far hadn't done much to improve the central heating of the room. As Blaine tucked the blanket up to Kurt's chin, his fingers brushed the soft skin there, sending an electric jolt up his arm and straight to his heart.

He gasped sharply and pulled away. He rubbed his hands together to try to warm them up, thinking the chilled glass had numbed his fingers. But no matter what he did, his knuckles that had made contact with Kurt's skin were tingling with a strange heat he didn't understand. Kurt was smiling softly in his sleep now, and Blaine looked down at him without having a reason to, and felt his face flush with heat. He hoped that he hadn't caught a cold overnight.

Blaine swallowed carefully around the sore spot in his throat. He stepped lightly to Kurt's door, leaving the room and leaving the door open just a crack for when he returns. He took the stairs carefully since he was sure there must be a squeaky one among them. All old houses had one. When he's on the main floor he pauses to assess his surroundings. He hasn't been to Kurt's house many times before, and everything looks different in the dark.

He finally reached the kitchen and turned on the light. He hoped it won't flood into the living room next to him where the guys were sleeping, but breaking all the glasses in the cupboard would be even worse. Blaine searched the cupboards for the box of salt he'd seen Kurt use earlier when they'd made cookies. He filled a cup with warm tap water, and stirred in a generous spoonful of salt. When most of the crystals were sufficiently dissolved he lifted the cup, allowed himself a moment to grimace in resignation, and poured a mouthful in. He gargled the salt water for a full minute before spitting it out into the sink.

Blaine sighed and leaned against the counter, taking in an experimental breath. The salt water seemed to have done its job, and throat didn't feel as incredibly sore as before. He lifted the glass to take another sip, just for good measure, when the door to the kitchen banged open.

"Arg, light!"

Blaine choked on his water and twisted to cough and spit up into the sink. He could hear someone stumbling around the kitchen behind him, cursing loudly.

"What the hell, Warbler?" came a croaky voice from the doorway. Blaine continued to cough into the sink, but finally managed to dislodge the water that was stuck in his throat. He wiped his mouth on his arm and turned to face whoever had entered.

Puck was still rubbing his sore eyes with one hand, using the other to hold himself up against the cupboards. Finally his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room and he glared at Blaine.

"Sorry about the light," Blaine found himself saying. "Did it wake you?"

"The hell it did," Puck growled. He turned away from Blaine to open the pantry. He rummaged around in the shelves before settling on a box of _Cheerio's._ He grumbled as he brought his snack to the table, leaving the pantry door open behind him, and plopped into a chair at the small kitchen table.

"What are you even doing up right now?" Puck asked. "Thought you would be shacked up nice and cozy with your little lover-boy upstairs."

Blaine frowned at Puck's immaturity. "We're friends, Puck. I came down here because I had a sore throat and needed to gargle salt water to fix it."

"Wanky."

Blaine threw up his hands in frustration. Puck hadn't been nearly as annoying earlier that night. Or maybe Blaine's sore throat was making him more irritable than usual.

He quickly cleaned out his glass at the sink. Puck's noisy crunching grated at his tired nerves. He left it upside-down on the drying rack. Deciding that he'd completed his purpose here, despite this weird interaction, Blaine decided he should go back up to bed. Blaine was about to bid Puck goodnight as civilly as possible, he hated leaving things on a bad note, when the kitchen door opened yet again and Finn stumbled into the room.

"You could be more quiet when leaving a room, Puck," he said, glaring at Puck. Puck shrugged, clearly unconcerned, and continued munching on his snack. Finn eyed Puck's snack, then walked over to the open pantry to grab himself one too. When he turned around he saw Blaine standing by the sink and jumped.

"Jesus, Blaine," Finn said, clutching at his heart, "where did you come from?"

Blaine sighed. "I was here the whole time, Finn. Just getting some water," he glared at Puck, as if daring him to say anything about it, but Puck looked like he was sleep eating and not paying attention to anything around him. "If you'll excuse me, then, I'll be going back to bed. Goodnight guys." He moved to the kitchen door at the opposite end of the room, the one that led to the hallway, not the living room, but Finn's voice stopped him.

"Hold on, Blaine, there's something I want to talk to you about."

Blaine kept walking. "Does it have to be now? Only, it's really late and –"

"Please," Finn said. He closed his eyes and said the one thing he knew would get Blaine to stay. "It's about Kurt."

Just as he'd predicted, Blaine stopped heading to the door and turned around. His eyes were wide, all traces of fatigue gone, and Finn could tell that he had Blaine's full attention.

"It's nothing bad," Finn assured, feeling bad for playing Blaine like this, "Just something I need to say to you. Why don't you come sit down." Blaine looked appropriately confuzzled at Finn's proposition, but he saw something needy in Finn's face. Determination; hurt; love, they were there too, and Blaine couldn't ignore a plea that involved Kurt and those elements.

Puck munched his dry cereal, watching the two with mild interest.

A chair scraped against the floorboards as Blaine pulled it away from the kitchen table and sat.

"Okay, Finn. I'm listening."


End file.
